Voir Dire
by Napkins
Summary: Following Joel and Ellie cross country was great fun but an apocalypse can yield all sorts of interesting characters...
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Rogers foot slipped on a pile of refuse as he thundered through the lobby of an old office building. He slammed down onto the marble floor with a thud as his lungs compacted and spit out air. Gasping, he staggered back to his feet as someones hand grabbed his upper arm in a tight grip, pulling him towards the back of the building.

"C'mon we gotta move!" Shouted Alex over the tumult of screeching and gun fire behind them.

Without a word Roger was running again ignoring the dull pounding in his chest. When the two neared a set of double doors with the symbol for stairs on a sign above them Roger once again fell to the ground. This time for a reason he couldn't identify. Alex's sneakers squeaked on the marble as he doubled back to grab Roger.

"Get goin' you fucking idiot!" Screamed Alex, this time with no concern, just vitriol.

Alex held one of the doors open as Roger stumbled though it. Leaving the door swinging shut, Alex began running up the steps three at a time. Before following suit, Roger quickly inspected the door. There was nothing available to barricade the doors so he settled for setting the rubber door stoppers down against the floor. With that he ambled up the steps, taking two when his good leg could afford it.

Once he rounded the second landing he looked up to see Alex aiming his Beretta 92 down towards him a little over his shoulder. With a sardonic look Alex took a hand off of his pistol to give a snarky shrug.

"The fuck are you doin' down there?" Alex asked, oozing superiority as only a teenager can. He'd asked the question much more loudly than he'd thought. Once the double doors had closed the noise lowered by several orders of magnitude to where they could finally hear their foot steps echo off the stairwell walls.

"I'm putting measures in place, something you wouldn't stop to do you littl-"

Alex looked wide eyed down the stairs while Roger leaned over the side of the railing to look at the entrance. He saw an infected with its leg and half of its torso trying to squeeze through the jammed door. Through the vertical pain of glass he saw maybe two or three more behind it waiting for their opening.

"Haul it dickless!" grunted Roger as he resumed limping up the steps as fast as his leg would let him. Alex bounded up the steps ahead of him and was soon out of site. Roger fumble with the gun he had tucked in the bottom flap of his backpack. On the forth landing he finally managed to free the sawed off Browning A5, at that moment he heard the crash as the door beneath slammed open against the wall. Forgetting all about the pain he took the steps three at a time. He was moving so fast he nearly collided with Alex who stood stock still at a landing three floors up.

They stood there staring at an impenetrable wall of concrete rubble and tangled rebar. They could see pin pricks of sunlight though the narrow slits and gaps in the pile blocking them.

Alex bolted to the landing door, trying it to no avail. He looked around widely.

"Well!? What the fuck do we do now?"

Roger looked down through the gap in the stairwell. He could make out glimpses of moving figures almost three floors down. He went to the door and tried the handle, jamming it down and throwing his shoulder into the door.

"No good." He seethed

"No shit" replied Alex.

Without stopping to think Roger flipped his backpack off his shoulder and unzipped it. He pulled out a waffle hammer and pressed it against Alex's chest.

"Do something with this." said Roger, ushering Alex to the door.

As Alex began wailing on the pane of glass in the door Roger readied himself at the top on the stairs. He could hear the loud moans moving up the steps, maybe one floor down. The stench filled his nostrils. That smell, no matter how many times he'd smelled it before it still made whatever resided in his stomach boil up to the back of his throat. It smelled like chicken bones rotting inside of a to-go box for ten years, citrus and shit.

Alex kept pounded on the glass trying to rip away the metal netting incased between the plate glass. Flipping the hammer around he swung the claws into it, feverishly tugging it loose one strand at a time. Finally with enough room to slip an arm through he reached his free hand inside the window, feeling around for the bar that would open it. He heard a deafening boom ring out from behind him. He turned around to see Roger stepping slowly back towards him. He thought he heard Roger saw something like "hurry up," but couldn't quite make out the words.

Alex plunged his arm as far into the window as his height allowed him. He could just feel the bar on his finger tips but didn't have enough leverage to work with. Pulling his arm out he grabbed the hammer and stuck it back in. He was determined to bang the doors lever open. He felt Rogers body weight against him and the door. He looked around again to see Roger fire another shot into three infected closing the gap between them. One of them took the blow full force and its torso crippled in half, the lead pellets blowing out chunks of cinder behind it.

Finally with one more random blow the door gave way. Alex dropped the hammer, his arm still caught in the door. He could feel the shards of glass he hadn't knocked loose slicing his sleeve open and embedding under his skin as he yanked it out.

"Shut it! Shut it!" Screamed Roger.

He sent another shot down range, blowing back a target that was almost upon them. Alex slammed the door shut.

Roger stood up shakily, picking up the hammer as he did. Once standing he was eye to eye the last infected left. Still screeching, its face pressed as far through the narrow window as it could. Roger then sunk the claw side of the hammer into its forehead. The screeching stopped but as the infected fell back it took the hammer with it, leaving pieces of its face stuck to the broken edges.

Roger slumped against the wall and slide down it, joining Alex. The two looked at each other.

Seeing the shocked and tired look on Rogers face Alex laughed. He tried to conceal it at first but then the adrenaline wore off and he doubled over laughing hysterically. Roger looked down the hallway, suppressing the urge to laugh as well. He couldn't however rid the little grin that curled his mouth on one side.

"Knock it off, we aren't safe yet." He grumbled.

Alex straighten up slightly, chocking down his last laugh in a fit of coughs. His bloodshot eyes found Rogers. Rogers eyes were already fixed on his.

Roger hadn't known Alex for more than two days but two days was long enough for him to deduce two things. Firstly was that Alex was a smart ass. Secondly was that his reaction to stress and fear was to laugh. It wasn't always appropriate per situation but Roger figured it was better than crying, or even worse, him slipping into indolent indecision.

The kid was nearly as tall as him albeit not as broad or physically fit. Give it a few more weeks of weathering and malnutrition though, then maybe. Other than the height you couldn't find two more dissimilar people. Alex had long stringy dark hair tucked behind his ears with the aid of a blood crusted bandana. Roger was a dirty blonde who kept his hair to a close crop. Their faces were a stark contrast as well. Were as Alex had a smooth, pale face with almost no facial hair, Roger had a cracked, sun beaten face with a weeks worth of beard that hid only half of the nicks and scars he'd accumulated from all the trouble he'd gotten into.

Alex broke eye contact to pull his arm out of his checked shirt.

"You need a minute?" asked Roger quietly.

Alex breathed a sigh of exasperation.

"That goddamn window got me" he explained, tucking his arm behind his head to look at the wound on his upper arm.

Roger clicked on the pen torch he had in his pocket.

"Got you good, hold still and I can get it."

Roger unzipped his back pack and retrieved a pocket bathroom kit. He took the tweezers out, stuck the pen torch in his mouth.

Slowly he prodded the inch long shard of glass in a direction that it could be slide out, Alex making small grunts all the while.

"C'mere" said Roger with one more tug. The shard came out clean. Like a stopper in a wine bottle the blood came oozing out after it.

Alex sucked air in through his teeth. "Fucker" he exhaled.

Roger pulled a half pint of stoli from his pack and poured a little into Alex's open wound before plugging it with a cotton ball.

"Ahhhh, motherfucker." breathed Alex. Inspecting his treated arm he, pulled a roll of electrical tape from his own pack and wrap a single strand around his bicep.

Alex looked at Roger questioningly. "You think those guys followed us in here?"

"Doubtful, there was at least fifteen stalkers between them and us."

Roger reached around in his back pack, Alex continued to press him. "How the fuck come they shot at us? Why didn't they just follow us and wait to catch us off our guard?"

Roger answered him still searching his pack. "Be thankful they did. If they did it your way we'd probably both be dead right around now."

"Yeah but lettin' every stalker in the area know we're all here, fuckin' stupid."

Roger tilted his head in agreement. "They might of thought they would loose us once the sun went down, doesn't matter."

Finally finding what he was looking for, Roger slid his last two shell into the tube. "Lets get to it, I wanna get set up for the night before the sun goes down"

"I'll take the left side." Alex told him.

Roger nodded his assent.

As quickly as Roger stood up, he fell back over with a growl of pain.

Alex knelt down next to him. "You fucked up?"

Roger shifted up his pant leg to find a hole about the size of a pea in his calf slowly leaking blood into his sock.

"Damn dude you got shot!" Said Alex breathlessly.

"I got hit, probably a ricochet from downstairs. If it'd have hit full on I'd still be down there. "

Alex chimed in "Hit, shot, you gonna be able to walk?"

"Yeah, just help me up" Groaned Roger.

Once he was steadily on his feet he peaked through the broken door window soaking in the sounds before opening it to retrieve his hammer. They both started down the hallway, checking each room of their respective sides for threats or salvageables before moving on down.

At the last two doors of the hallway they met up to compare their findings before moving forward.

"Anything good?" Asked Alex.

"Just some office supplies that might come in handy, a metal trash can to. Might be able to break down a desk or something, get a fire going. How about you?"

Alex reached in his pack. "Some stale ass mints and a building plan on the wall. So pretty much fuck all."

"Better than nothi-" Roger started.

Alex cut across him "I did however..." He paused for dramatic tension. "Find these."

He held out a crumpled pack of Misty's.

Rogers eyes lit up until he saw the brand.

Alex noticed this and asked "I thought you smoked."

"I do and I'll smoke those. You just happened to find a pack that's better suited to an old hag that smells like cat piss and blows her social security on scratch offs." Replied Roger with resignation.

Alex blew a raspberry, tossing the pack to Roger. "I don't know what the fuck you're saying most of the time. So, we camping here tonight.?"

"Good a place as any."

Roger turned to look in the last room he hadn't cleared yet. It held a few desks and book shelves. One of the floor to ceiling windows had been completely blown out, big hunks of it scattered all over the room. The other windows we caked in grim and barely transparent. As a stiff wind blew in through the window he saw what made the room a winner to stay in.

"Check it out." Roger nodded into the room.

Alex poked his head around the corner.

"Fucking score old man." clenching his fist.

Roger shoved him in to the room, almost pushing him over before the kid righted himself and ran over to the water cooler in the corner of the room.

"See if it works." Roger said.

"It's not gonna be cold dumbass." Alex chastised.

"See if the taps work...idiot." Roger snapped back.

Roger walked over to where Alex stood and selected one of the mugs on the shelf next to the cooler. He picked one up that read "You're a perfect sister!" It had little paw prints all over it. He shook his head and pressed one of the taps down. Slowly the mug filled.

"It's going to taste like shit." He told Alex taking his first sip. It did.

Alex stuck out his tongue as if to gag. "Eh, why does it taste like this?"

"It's been sitting in plastic for 20 years, it's going to taste like plastic." Drawled Roger.

"No shit?"

"Noooo shit. You gonna help me barricade these doors or what?" Asked Roger.

"Yeah, what do you got?" Alex answered, looking over his shoulder at him.

Roger tossed him the hammer and one of the wooden door stoppers he'd found in another room. "Bang that under the door."

"Sure, grab me one of these chairs to stuff under the handle." Said Alex.

Roger obliged him and brought over a wooden chair that he kicked into place.

"Come help me do mine" Asked Roger.

While Alex knelt down to hammer the stopper into place Roger sat down on a chair next to the door and pulled up his pant leg to take a closer look and the hole in his leg. Sighing, he went to unzip his pack to grab his tweezers again. As he was bending over and Alex was standing up to grab nother chair the room around them exploded. Without stopping to think Roger sprang up from his sitting position to body slam Alex away. He hit him with such force that Alex was lifted off his feet and thrown into a office chair that toppled over backwards sending him tumbling next to the water cooler. Roger dived back into his corner of the room.

"Stay down!" Screamed Roger. "It's coming from across the street!"

From his prone position he looked between the desk and chair legs to see Alex huddled in a fetal position covering his face with his arms. Bits of stationary and glass rained over them both as the windows and desks in the room crackled and popped sending their remnants into the air. It only lasted another few seconds before an ominous silence resumed.

Alex parted his arms a little to look for Roger. "Rog? Rog what the fuck was that?"

"Shh, just stay down and don't fucking move." He replied with force.

The corner he was in only had about three feet of space between the now shattered window and the wall perpendicular to it. Roger quickly peaked his head out to assess the situation. No sooner did he pull his head back in that the barriage started up again, this time only lasting a second or two.

Roger knew he needed more room to move around in before he could come up with a plan. He slid up the wall a little to get a good grip on metal bookshelf and pulled it to the ground with a crash, its contests spilling onto the floor. No shot come that time. Straining himself he tilted the shelf on its side and began sliding it into place in front of the window.

Alex chirped "Dude that covers dog shit, they'll blow right through it."

Roger continued shifting and responded "I know, I'm not hiding behind it, I just don't want them knowing where I am."

He glanced over at Alex whose side of the room yielded much more cover not to mention sporting a wooly coach and a giant jug of water. A much better place to be if you potentially have to hunker down for a while.

A few seconds after he placed the shelf more gunfire range out punching holes into the sheet metal. Adding more holes to the wall behind it, it sent out tiny bits of shrapnel whizzing in all directions. One of which caught Roger about an inch under his left eye.

"Mother Fucker!" Howled Roger.

"You get hit? I mean shot?" Yelled Alex, getting up slightly.

Roger slumped against the wall dejected. "No, just nicked."

Alex laid back down still looking over at Roger. He asked "So are we getting outta here or what? You think they'll try and come over here?"

"We can't" Roger started. "It's damn near sun down and I doubt they'd brave the street trying to get to us. It'll probably be a stand off until the morning."

Roger dug through his pack looking for the rifle scoop that didn't have its home on rifle. When he took it out he rolled onto his side, putting it to his eye and peering out across the street through one of the fresh bullet holes.

"What'd ya see?"

Roger stared hard, looking at the room across the street perfectly level to their own. He searched for as many bodies as he could. "Looks like two guys so far. That's all I can see anyways."

"There was definitely more than that on the street earlier. You think some of em' got bite and the others left em'?"

"Probably not" Roger said still searching." I only remember seeing one guy with an AR-15 or something like that, and maybe another guy with a hunting rifle. The other ones probably don't have guns worth trying to aim over here. They're probably just hiding like we are."

Roger rolled back against the wall. He laid the scope on his chest. "All I can really make out is two guys. One's just on the floor and the others propped up on a desk. It's to dark to see what they've got."

Alex giggled a little bit. He looked around the room and whistled before saying "What are the fuckin' odds we'd pick a room to hid in right across the street from those cunts?"

Roger shook his head and said "Weirder things have happened."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"You gettin' it?" asked Alex breaking the silence.

Roger was to focused on sliding the points of his tweezers around edges of the lead pellet in his calf to answer back. When he had the best hold he was going to get on it he pulled back ever so slightly, willing the BB to come loose. The tweezers prongs snapped back together pushing the BB right back to where it was before.

"Oh you lousy bitch!" muttered Roger.

"Lost it again?"

Roger flung the tweezers at the wall beside him, the points digging into the drywall and resting there. "I can't get the goddamn thing out and it's starting to kill my leg."

"Could you try squeezin' it out?" ask Alex

Roger looked over at Alex who was comfortably lounging on the couch then back to his leg. He put his thumbs about one inch on either side of the hole and took a deep breath before jamming them into his muscle. His face contorted in pain as he let out a series of gasps. Alex was watching him intently.

In a deadpan voice Alex added "probably hurts huh?"

Roger looked over to see Alex quaking with suppressed laughter. Angry, he grabbed a binder off the floor and flung it across the room at him. No sooner did it hit the wall above Alex's head that a shot rang out from across the street sending a framed picture spinning off of a desk between them. Alex laughed out loud at this.

"It feels like I'm popping a pimple on my ear times about a thousand" said Roger. He wiped the sweat off of his brow and readied himself for a second attempt. After about ten seconds of intense pain the lead ball popped loose and fell to the floor. Roger picked it up and inspected it in the light of his pen torch that had been illuminating his leg. It looked like a 20 gauge pellet. He flicked it out the window.

"Toss me some water, I'm all out." Roger asked.

Alex began to get up saying "why don't you just run over hear real quick, they won't get ya."

Roger looked at the 12 feet or so of open space that had become a firing range. With a grimace he replied "I'm not gonna risk it and I don't know how fast I can move right now."

Alex poured some water into a freezer bag that he found in one of the cupboards, sealed it and tossed it over to Roger. He caught it in both hands, no shot came this time.

"Thanks. You might want to put a new bandage on your head, that bandana's starting to look filthy."

Alex slipped the bandana off of his head revealing a pretty nasty gash. It was inflamed around the edges but thankfully not infected. He'd received it when the two men had first met. Alex had been creeping around on the second floor of a dilapidated factory unaware of Roger sleeping under a conveyor belt one floor down. One wrong footing had sent him crashing through to the floor below. Roger had woken up at the sounds of the boards cracking only to find a teenager come falling through the roof, bouncing his head off the conveyor as he came.

When Alex came to he found himself on soft pile of cardboard. Roger was sitting on a stool ten feet away with all of Alex's possessions leaning against the stool. A lengthy conversation had ensued and surprisingly to both of them they had agreed to travel together.

"I ran outta gauze like a week ago, the ones sides still fresh though." Alex said turning the bandana to an untarnished side to put it back on.

"I'll make you deal" announced Roger.

Alex's ears perked up.

"I'll give you a sterile bandage for a piece of that electrical tape."

"Where'd you get bandages?" Alex asked him

"I picked up a pack of pillow cases in a department store the other day. They're hypoallergenic." answered Roger.

"What's that mean?" Alex inquired.

"Means it's less likely to harbor allergens. Twelve hundred thread count too."

"Deal" said Alex. "What's thread count mean?"

"Not a thing" stated Roger.

Roger took one of the pillow cases out of his pack and shredded it with a pocket knife. The two then exchanged their goods.  
With the piece of tape next to him Roger once again took the pint of Stoli out and pour a little on his leg, wheezing as the liquor soaked in and stung him. "Here" he said, tossing the tape back. "I'm gonna eat." He pulled a can of pork and beans out of his pack and peeled the top off.

"I though you couldn't eat from cans anymore" cooed Alex while he gnawed the piece of stale jerky he'd taken out of his own pack.

"The tops not bowing out yet, I should be fine. Worst thing that's gonna happen is I get the runs."

"Not if you're in the same room as me!"

Roger smiled. Close to finishing his meal he started feeling a whining in his stomach. "Toss me that trash can."

"Dude, you're not taking a shit in here with me" asserted Alex.

"I'll do it with or with out the can, at least with the can I can chuck it out the window" finished Roger, his head tilted, waiting for Alex to fold.

Alex threw the can to him. Again, no shot came due to the movement.

Alex wondered "Why aren't shooting anymore. You think they peaced out?"

"They probably think we're fucking with them trying to get them to waste ammo" Roger explained.

Alex started to get up saying "well I'm gonna check out the place. Definitely not sitting around while you make."

Roger considered him for a moment. He knew the kid was all to capable to be on his own. What he actually worried about was being left alone in such a vulnerable position. He opened his mouth to speak. "Just make sure you shut the door and come right back if you run into anything."

Alex grinned as he took the stoppers out from beneath the door. "Don't worry about me old man, worry about toilet paper."

Roger looked around for a moment panicked. When he looked back up the door on Alex's side it was already closing.

Roger stood the can up and set down on it. While he did his business he tightly crumpled sheets of yellowing paper until they were worn and soft. "That'll do." He thought. When he was done he picked up the can and with a thrust sent the contents flying out into the night. He put the can as far from himself as he safely could and laid pack down.

He took the rolled up fire blanket off of his pack and laid it over himself. Once he was comfortable he took out the book 'A Short History of Nearly Everything by Bill Bryson' and turned to the page he had dog eared. He found it in someone's three days earlier apartment and it looked like a decent enough read.

For the next six hour he lay there and read, the occasional round flying in the window kept him alert and awake. Alex had yet to return but Roger hadn't heard anything to merit his concerns. He also doubted the kid would take off without him in the dead of night. It wouldn't be the wildest thing to happen to him but irregular all the same. A few times he took out his scope to spy on the neighbors only to be jealous of the fire they had going and the audible bursts of laughter that sometimes crossed the street.

Close to sunrise Alex returned. He stepped slightly through the door almost making Roger jump. He stood in the doorway with his arm still outside of it. Roger sat up cautiously reaching for his sawed off, his thoughts in high alert. Alex wasn't smiling and looked like a dog that got caught ripping a shoe apart. Then his face lit up.

"You are not going to believe what the fuck I found!" whispered Alex in an excited tone.

Roger waited on baited breath to hear. That's when Alex revealed the surprise. From behind him he pulled out a rifle. Not just any rifle either. A L96A1 matte black precision rifle.

Rogers' eyes glowed and his mouth hung a little agape. "Where the fuck did you find that?!" he seethed in glee.

Alex planted himself on the couch, the rifle laying across his lap and leaned forward to tell the story. "So I was up about three floors. The higher I went I kept find huge pieces of this place blown out. The place is totally fucked the further up you go."

"Get to it!" Roger interrupted.

"Alight..." chastised Alex. "So I'm just looking around a few rooms when I come to this one room that has a giant hole in the wall. There were cabinets and shelves and shit all over the place. When I go poking through, I find a leg. Nearly shit myself. Shoe and everything, I thought I stumbled on to a guy sleeping like I did with you. Only thing is, if a guy was sleeping there he decided to do it with about four hundred pounds of filing cabinet on him."

Alex cracked his knuckles and continued.

"It took me a little while to lift the fucking thing off him and I only did it after kicking him a couple a times. When I pushed it off of him I found this!" He held up the rifle proudly. "It's got four bullets in it and there was another ten of them in a pouch on him." He twisted in his seat to show Roger his side. Tucked in his pants was yet another Beretta 92. "All in all I got about another twenty 9mm."

Roger finally regained some of his composure and asked the obvious question. "What was he doing up there?"

Still smiling Alex shrugged "you got me, but I did find this around his neck." He tossed something to Roger.  
Roger caught it and it took a second for the moonlight to help him register that it was a Firefly necklace. He breathed out audibly and said "I bet ya

I can tell you what happen."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yup" nodded Roger. He explained "there used to be an old Q-Zone about a block from here. My bet is the guy was trying to pick off soldiers and they got sick of him. Turned the artillery on his ass until he stopped shooting or the building came down. All that racket probably brought the furniture down. Is that all you found on him?"

Alex looked thoughtful for a moment before his face changed back to giddiness and he cajoled "I found some food to but it got crushed and went bad. I mean, the guy was probably there for at least two years. Just the guns."

"Just the guns" Roger mimicked looking skeptical.

Alex said guiltily "There was an M.R.E..."

"Which you ate all to yourself." Roger huffed, exhausted.

"Aw c'mon, you had pork and beans, all I got were some shitty mints and jerky that tastes like dick."

Roger rolled back feeling a mixture of bemusement, annoyance and jealousy. He'd been at this too long to feel that way but it was a hell of a rifle.

Alex said "I was gonna give you the pistol since I already got one. I figured I'd wait till you were over here.

Roger glanced over feeling ashamed of his previous thought process. "Thanks kid. It's about time for us to be getting out of here anyways, sun's almost up."

"You mind if I grab like a half hour of sleep real quick before we do?" Alex begged. "I'm fuckin' tired.

"Sure" agreed Roger.

Roger woke Alex up a short while later with another binder.

"It's about that time" told Roger to a sleepy Alex.

"Mmmm" Alex responded. He sat up and fight back the sleep on his face with a few quick slaps to it.

Roger had already pack up all of his things and put the pen torch back into its slot in the crank power flashlight it was a part of. He steadily slid up the wall, feeling the dull thudding pain radiating up from his leg to his temples.

"Alright, I'm just gonna go for it." said Roger psyching himself up.

Alex, getting on all fours began to move towards the center of the room.

"What are you doing?" asked Roger in a high, harsh whisper.

"I got a bullet or two to spare, I'll pop a few off in their direction, get em' to foul up a little on the aim. It'll give you a shot at not getting shot."

Roger didn't really think this was the time to argue, the sun was going to start creeping through the buildings in just a few minutes. Once Alex had positioned himself behind an overturned desk in front of the blown out window closest to his side, Roger poised himself. It was in that moment that the shooter across the street decieded to send another random round their way.

The scarlet pattern of blood on the wall was academic. The bullet had cracked right through the desk, continuing onward into the soft viscera of Alex's neck. The young guy clutched at his throat for a second or two before the power in his arms gave way and he slumped forward. With the side of his face pressed against the carpet it pulled the skin back taut to form a hearth wrenching mask of deformity. He didn't make a sound, he couldn't. All he could do was move his one arm around vaguely, smearing the pooling blood around the carpet.

Roger had been just about to spring forward when the shot came. He stumbled, nearly exposing himself to the open window. He faltered and then fell back against the wall. From his crumpled position he watched the last bit of Alexs life trickle down the wall and soak into the carpet.

With reckless abandon Roger stood up, relishing the thumping in his chest and leg and bowled over to the other side of the room. The rushing in his ears didn't allow him to hear the shots follow him or the shouts from outside. He didn't stop moving until he slammed into the coach.

When the room stopped spinning he turned around. Alex still sat in a huddled mass. Roger got to one knee, reaching as far as he could, he grasp Alex by the shirt collar and pulled him back. Laying him flat Roger saw the devastation. In a few days he'd be able to justify not scolding Alex for crouching where he did but for right now all he could feel was the hurt and the anger.

He knew that returning fire on the men across the way would most likely result in his death. Besides, what was the point now? The sun was almost up and the exit was right behind him. He laid Alex's corpse on the couch, shutting his blank star and pulling the pillow case remnant off of his head to replace it over his neck instead. After a moments of quick riffling he stood up. With a full canteen and several double bagged bags of water, three new weapons to add to his arsenal as well as whatever else Alex's pack could yield, he quietly shut the door to the office behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Victoria reached over to the bedside table to relight the solitary candle on it. As the flame grew higher it threw light across her sweaty and flush figure. A frayed blanket was coiled just above her waist. When she rolled back around she saw Cass staring at her. She smiled mischievously.

"Is that all?" Cass pouted. "I didn't even get to you..."

Victoria rested her head on her hand still smiling and said "that's just me for you, always the generous one."

Cass shot out a hand and flicked one of Victoria's nipples.

"Ow! you little shit." shouted Victoria, shoving Cass back an inch or two.

"I'm serious!" Cass wailed. "Every time you come over you always give me the time of my life! Then when it's your turn you turn on the light and give me that stupid smile..."

Victoria softened and slid her hand across Cass's stomach to grab her hip and pull her closer. "It's just how I am. What are you complaining for?

Cass rested her head on Victoria's breast. "I'm not, I just wanna show a little gratitude for once. Anyway, I know why you won't so it isn't worth trying."

Victoria looked down "Why's that?"

"You like to be in control" said Cass in a soft resolute tone.

Victoria considered this and then shrugged. She started saying "I'm leaving tonight."

Cass hugged her a little tight and squeaked "not yet, stay a for a little bit."

Victoria sighed looking depressed and then dropped the bomb. "I mean I'm leaving the QZ."

Cass sat bolt upright and starred at her. "What? Why? What the fuck for? Are you out of your goddamn mind?!"

Victoria raised her eyebrows for a second. She figured Cass would be shocked. She calmly stated "I'm leaving tonight, I gotta get out of here before something bad happens to me?"

"Is this about your debt?" asked Cass.

Victoria nodded.

"I can spot you like three ration cards. You don't even have to pay me back, just stick around. You don't even have to fuck me for em'" Cass pleaded.

Victoria's depression lifted slightly as she laughed out loud. "Three isn't really going to cut it."

Cass's eyes widened. "How much do you owe?"

Victoria's eyes went blank as she did the math in her head. "I think about...twenty..." she said looking guilty.

Cass's jaw dropped.

"Don't gimme that look, a girl has to eat."

Cass scolded her "You're eating for two then ya pig! Who do you owe them to?"

"Rodney" admitted Victoria looking down.

"Oh shit...What are you gonna do?"

"Leave, like I said" answered Victoria matter of factly.

"There isn't anything else you can do?"

"Not unless you can think of a way for me to get almost a months worth of rations by curfew lift tomorrow" said Victoria.

Cass looked down, dejected. She squeezed Victoria and admitted "You gotta leave..."

"Yup, but I promise I'll come back around."

Victoria swirled her figure tips around Cass's side beneath her arm giving her goose bumps and making one nipple stand on end.

Cass breathed "everyone says that and they never do."

Victoria stopped tickling, affronted. "I mean it" she proclaimed with soft force.

Cass nudged Victoria with her head, silently signaling for her to continue. Victoria leaned her mouth in and whispered "greedy." Cass rolled her eyes beneath her closed lids. Then she sat up again, her contented look replaced with the smile that occasioned Victoria.

"If you're really leaving then I've got one thing that still needs done before you do." she said chippered.

"You're kidding right? I'm going to be gone sun up and all you can think about is ahh-" her voice was quelled by the sensation that ran up her body like a live wire when Cass ran her finger tips from her inner thigh down, _hard._ For once she decided not to protest and instead let Cass seduce her. She held onto the bed sheets in a death grip as her back arched uncontrollably, soft and quiet sounds of delight coming from beneath the curtain of Cass's auburn hair.

It was two hours later that Victoria found herself climbing onto an old Harley Davidson bar stool with about ten pounds of duct tape holding it together at a local dive a block down. The bartender looked down his nose at her.

"What do ya want?" he asked with a smarmy drawl.

"Whiskey, whatever's cheapest." she demanded.

The bartender reached under the bar and brought up an old plastic container for engine oil. He poured about two ounces of murky amber liquid into her glass.

She recoiled "that shit doesn't still have oil in it does it?"

"Nope, but we brew it ourselves and you _did_ ask for bottom shelf. That's what ya get" he told her, bored.

"How much to leave the bottle?"

"What do ya got?" and asked.

She held up a green ration card. He took it and inspected it below the bare bulb in the ceiling. He pocketed it, nodded at her and went back to puttering.

She sat for a while taking in the smells and the noises, mentally preparing herself up for her departure. She actually was going to miss this place. She'd spent seven years here after being transferred from her home QZ in D.C. She thought maybe she'd head back. Maybe try and reconnect with some of her old friends and relatives, god willing there was any left.

It was while she was daydreaming about the looks on some of the faces from her past when she felt the shadow behind her. She could smell the musk and felt the heat radiating from whoever was behind her.

"Hey girlie, you're overdue" K whispered in her ear.

She looked over her shoulder at him. He was a pretty big bastard, with a tangle of beard and long hair. He looked and smelled like shit and hard work too. His real name was Karen but for obvious reason he picked a more intimidating nickname. He didn't used to look like that either, she'd seen it with her own eyes years ago. He had had a face like a model but after getting in with one of the bosses his looks had sunken into his face. The years of boozing and fighting hadn't help either.

"You know I'm not due till tomorrow morning, fuck off me." She acknowledge confidently.

"Everyone knows you're comin' up short tomorrow" he uttered.

She took another long sip of her drink. Noticing that the bar had gone down maybe an octave or two. She looked back at him with a sarcastic, condescending look and said "why don't you let me worry about what I'm coming up with and what I'm not coming up with."

He placed a hand on her shoulder, smiling when he felt he tense up a little. "I'm just here to see if there's anything I can do to help you..." He started, giving her a squeeze.

She brushed his hand off, keeping her eyes focused on the bar.

He leaned down until his mouth was in her ear and whispered so that only she could hear him. "I like mixed girls..." She stiffened. "You gotta a good look too, I'm gonna guess 34C...not much of an ass though." She felt him move back a little to get a good look at her from behind.

Her eyes darted around looking for an out. When she met the bartenders gaze he just gave her pompous look and turned away. She glared at his back as K continued to whisper to her.

"That's okay though, honestly I'm a tit man myself. Seriously Vicki, my place is right upstairs. Tomorrow morning you don't gotta worry about Rodney, I can take care of him. I can take care of you when your mine" he finished.

When the miasma of dying teeth finally left her nostrils she seethed one syllable at a time "I. Fucking. _Hate._ The name Vicki.

With that last sentence she let her fist fly out from behind her and smack him square in the balls. It didn't have the desired effect. Instead of sending him away or at least releasing her, his hand moved from her shoulder to her neck. He squeezed hard as he steadied himself.

Still bent almost double he yanked her backwards, almost pulling her off of the stool. His face smashed against the side of hers he growled in a shaky dangerous voice. "Where the fuck do you think you are whore? I wasn't asking you just now, I was just makin' it look nice!"

He ended the sentiment by ripped her off the stool and sending her crashing to the ground in a fit of coughs. Raucous laughter and jeers emitted from the crowd, now fully engaged in the spectacle. K moved to stand over her, his legs apart. As he did she flung a kick out trying to nail him again. Ready this time, he grabbed her ankle and held it there reaching out to grab her with his other hand.

As his hand closed around her collar, first making a pit stop on her breast, Victoria saw a dark object come flying in a high arch before smashing into the side of K's face. With a wet smack a gash opened up on the side of his head just below the ear, spitting out blood. He toppled over right next to her. Looking past where he'd been standing she saw her savior. It was a tiny hooded figure with a curtain of auburn hair.

Victoria grabbed the bottle in a mad dash as the two blew through the door and onto the street. They then sprinted in the direction of Cass's apartment. They could hear the thunder of yells and angry shouts behind them but moved to fast to pay them any mind. Out of breath they hit the stoop of her building. Cass's fumbled with the keys while Victoria kept a look out for any pursuers. With everything looking in the clear the two hurried inside and slammed the door shut, locking a few of its many locks.

"Holy fuck! Are you out of your mind?" Victoria wheezed, completely winded.

Cass collapsed into her bed, breathing like she'd run a marathon. "I can't believe I fucking did that."

Victoria sat down in a chair with a glazed look in her eye. After a minutes silence she spoke up. "You're gonna get killed for that."

"I'll be okay" Cass said meekly.

"No, for real, everyone knows what you look like. You gotta get outta town!"

Cass shrugged "Seriously, I'll be okay. They aren't gonna start anything with curfew happening in a few minutes. Besides. I'll just make sure I'm at the gate by tomorrow morning first thing."

Victoria wandered over to the bed and sank in next to Cass. She looked over at her. "Going to another district isn't gonna save you, those guys have reach."

Cass sat there looking up at the ceiling. Victoria continued "You probably killed K. I'm about to hit the fucking road, you could always come with me. I don't want you getting caught up in this bullshit. I'd lose my shit if something happened after I left."

Cass looked in her eyes "Oh K's fine, it'll buff out." Victoria could hear the very faint southern twang coming out in Cass's voice. "Besides, my mom lives a district over and so does my brother, and he runs with a pretty nasty crowd. Only reason I'm not living other there is because they're always breathing down my neck and won't give me a fucking break. Nag nag nag nag nag..." her voice trailed away.

Suddenly the adrenaline coursing through Victoria's veins came to a grinding halt. Her body fell limp and she half laughed and half coughed. When she finally controlled herself and ask "you think you'll be safe with them then?"

"Oh yeah, like I said, my brother runs with harder guys than that. I'll be peachy keen."

Victoria finally asked the most pertinent question of the night. "So why were you there in the first place. Don't get me wrong I'm glad you were and I didn't have to kill that guy myself but still...why?"

Cass indulged her with a smile and answered. "Well first I went over to the other district to see if my brother could do anything to help you out. He said, and I qoute "No way am I gonna waste credibility and recourses protecting some dumb fuck brat friend of yours." His words, not mine. Plus he did bring up a few other things that actually made sense like the fact that you're only registered to this district and if the guards found you on that side way worse things might happen."

Victoria nodded. Cass's brother was right even if he was kind of a dick about it. "So, you still didn't say why you were there."

Cass continued "I dont know...I thought you might get into trouble. You're my friend. Besides, why are you complaining."

Victoria grimaced ironically.

Suddenly the idea of leaving, despite it being her only option, felt so painful that her heart thumped out an irregular beat and she tasted acid in her throat. She took a gulp of whiskey to wash it away. Two didn't say anything else and in a few minutes fell fast asleep.

The next morning Victoria stood at Cass's front door. Her pack was in her hand with all of her worldly belongings and the few rations she'd managed to scrounge up the past few days. Cass approached her with a cloth bag in her hand. Victoria looked quizzical.

"Here" said Cass, pulling out a dull metal revolver and slapping it in Victoria's hand. "It's got two shots left in it, it was for emergencies. This pretty much fits the bill. You're probably going to need at least one of em' to get out of here."

Veronica pop the cylinder out and check. Just two shots. She tucked it inside her belt and without pausing threw her arms around Cass. "I can't even think of how to thank you Cass. I sure as hell wouldn't have been here this morning without you. I promise you I'll come back, hold me to it.

Cass let go first. There was no kiss this time and it felt appropriate. She wasn't crying either but her nose was red and her eyes were puffy. She squeezed Victoria's arm. "I'm gonna hold you to it. We'll figure out away to get you on my side of the block when you do. Good luck."

Victoria left.

The streets were unusually deserted this time of day. She took it as a good sign as well as an ill omen. She headed west. Almost everyone knew the way to get out of the QZ. There was a way in every district usually. This one just happened to be guarded by one of Rodney's thugs, whichever one wasn't on work detail that day.

After a few twists and turns down the alleys she finally found herself at the exit point. It was through a basement that connected to a series of tunnels that housed utilities for the surrounding buildings. The tunnels were used back before the infection to make maintenance work go more smoothly. After that the tunnels led to the sewer, then out beyond the wall. The entrance to it all was under a plywood porch behind an old poultry deli.

She peaked her head around the corner. Sure enough there was a guard standing by, waiting to hassle anyone who came down that way. She pulled the revolver out of her belt and puller her sleeve over it and her hand. She was hoping to just be able to skirt by without being wrangled but she doubt it would go down that way. She steeled herself, then walked out.

"Who da fuck is that?" asked the guard.

Victoria kept her head down, intentionally walking like a drunk. The man began striding towards her, gesticulating.

"I asked where the fuck you think you goin' girl."

He reached out and began pulling the hood off of her head. He smiled. "Damn girl, you a pretty bitch. You come down here to see me or-."

Veronica Squeezed the trigger and sent a .38 round nose through his stomach. She expected him to either fall over immediately or at the very least take the shot stoically. He did neither, instead he fell to his knees clutching at his gut, screaming bloody murder. She whacked him with the revolver. One, two, three times until he was quiet then she fled.

The tunnels were surprisingly easy to navigate and had strings of lights to illuminate the hallways. No doubt there were other things than just an exit down here. It had spray painted arrows leading the way through the labyrinth. Despite the guide, it still took nearly forty five minutes before she heard the trickle of a stream. When she found the steel grate that had been carefully sawed away she hoisted herself through and clicked on her flashlight.

Approximately and hour and a half after she had left Cass's she squeezed through the bowed bars of the grate between her and the almost leveled city of Richmond. She took off her boots to clap them together and rid as much of the fecal sludge from them as she could. As she did she turned around to peer back at the colossal concrete wall a half mile away that'd she had just escape from. She thought she did pretty damn good, at least until she heard the hammer of a gun being pulled back behind her.

She began to shake uncontrollably, her hands raised in defeat. "Please" she stammered. "I-I got lost down there, I was just about to turn back around. I promise, I just I-I g-." A voice cut her off.

"Take the revolver out of your waist, place it on the ground, then turn around slowly" it said in a distinct monotone.

She closed her eyes, disgusted with herself and did as she was told. When she turned her eyes didn't find a soldier. Instead they found the shiny rim on a gun barrel pointed at her head with an emaciated man standing behind it, wrapped in a green fire blanket.


End file.
